


Do Not Ask For More

by daftalchemist



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Choking, Eldritch Abomination Cecil, M/M, Oral Sex, Tentacles, Unhealthy Relationships, three-mouthed Kevin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:49:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2079180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daftalchemist/pseuds/daftalchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil hates Kevin, but even he can't deny that a man with three mouths and three tongues has his uses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Not Ask For More

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to tumblr user frogspawned for letting me borrow her Kevin headcanon for this fic :D

There were few immutable facts in the world. Children should be seen and not heard because their angered wails could break even the thickest glass. The sky never darkens past 6pm and never brightens past 6am. Dogs aren’t real, but their ghosts are, and have taken over the role of family pet quite nicely. But chief among these facts was that Cecil did not like Kevin, no matter what the multi-mouthed horror might think. He did, however, like what Kevin could do, because he always strived to do everything so _perfectly_. Balancing the fine line between Cecil’s desire and rancor was one of those perfectly executed things, and perhaps even the reason that Cecil allowed Kevin to remain at the radio station, in his town, on the couch in his apartment. Perhaps it was even the reason when that stranglehold grip released his throat and gently caressed numbed skin, Cecil found all of his protestations died on his lips. It was certainly the reason he allowed Kevin to undo his slacks with three tongues working the button and three sets of razor sharp teeth peeling the fabric away.

Most people would rightfully hold some reservations about allowing a monster so hideous get near their most sensitive parts, mere centimeters from mouths that could tear their flesh to shreds. Cecil had less fear of that being a monster himself; his pitch black eyes focused on three mouths grinning bloodily at him, tongues lolling out, just waiting for an invitation to wrap around the five wriggling tendrils that had been confined in Cecil’s pants just a moment ago. They reached out eagerly, dripped dark fluid over Kevin’s lips and chin, which he lapped up with at least two smiles. The sight sent an almost imperceptible shiver down Cecil’s spine, his skin thickening, darkening until it was the deep, charcoal gray of a dusk sky, swirled with galaxies of violet freckles. Kevin’s third mouth smiled, high on his forehead, and he hummed with interest, tongues flicking eagerly against Cecil’s skin.

Kevin was good at what he did, but he was also an abomination--moreso than Cecil--and a nuisance, and the thought of letting the creature touch him was enough to make Cecil’s clawed toes curl in disgust. He dug his long, sharp fingers into the couch cushions and dropped his head to the side, sneering around a mouthful of nasty looking fangs.

“Go ahead,” he hissed begrudgingly, because though he already knew he’d find untold pleasure deep within those horrific maws, he also knew he’d wake up with a guilt so thick and heavy that it would feel like the hangover following a week long bender.

Kevin beamed, sun practically radiating off of those rows of sharp, white teeth, and pressed three pairs of lips to one single tendril before the tongue of the highest mouth wrapped lovingly around it, pulled it past thin, blood-stained lips. The sight was ghastly, but the effect was immediate, and Cecil screeched under his breath as his hips bucked and his back arched.

“You like it,” Kevin stated calmly from the lowest mouth as the middle one smiled lovingly up at the monster pinned beneath him, but Cecil did not answer.

He didn’t know what Kevin did to make his body ache with need and prickle with disgust with only the tip of a single tendril between dry, cracked lips. He didn’t know how it managed to feel amazing and new every time since that first night when the charitable offer of an old couch to sleep on had ended with a shadow in his bed and a hot mouth on his body. He just knew that on those odd occasions when bloodied lips met his, and tongues twined for that brief moment before he pulled away, it didn’t feel like this did.

“How many?” Kevin asked, a second tongue licking slowly at a second tendril, chuckling softly at Cecil’s soft gasps.

“All of them,” he growled, canting his hips, pressing the wriggling mass to so many lips. “Take all of them this time.”

Kevin squealed softly, squirmed excitedly. He gripped Cecil’s hips with hands softer than silk, nuzzled the dripping tendrils waiting to be sucked. “Such a filling offer this time. I must have done an especially good job last time, hmm?”

Cecil snarled, fisted a clawed hand into Kevin’s hair, and gave it a hard pull. Kevin, of course, only moaned; the mouth that was slowly working a tendril between its lips going slack as even it let out some guttural atrocity signifying pleasure. Cecil didn’t need to see Kevin’s groin to know that he’d be rutting a growing bulge against the cushions soon.

“Shut up and start sucking,” Cecil hissed, and Kevin smiled wide before eagerly complying.

Hot tongues and cold lips wrapped around each writhing tendril, already beginning to swell with ink, and Cecil groaned his pleasure, punching his hips upwards and thrusting himself deeper into Kevin’s mouths. It set his skin on fire, twisted his insides into agonizingly wonderful knots, and made his blood boil in ways he just couldn’t understand. Kevin’s tongues barely moved, his lips barely sucked, and still he had such a severe effect with so little effort; either incredibly skilled or doping Cecil with some sort of chemical produced in his saliva, still worth the sensations nonetheless. More than that, the knowledge that each of those insufferable smiles was filled with his thickening tendrils made it all the more worthwhile to allow Kevin to touch him again.

Or at least it was before the shadow of a chuckle started, low and deep, and Cecil looked down to see the bottom mouth empty, slavering hungrily, and delighting in his obvious arousal.

“Be _quiet_ ,” he growled, gritting his teeth, but Kevin’s laugh only grew louder, his hands travelling up over Cecil’s stomach and chest.

“Enjoying it?” he purred, voice thick with the confidence of already knowing the answer, no matter how much Cecil might try to deny it. “You should allow me to do more.”

Cecil tried to laugh at such an absurd suggestion, but it was lost in a moan, Kevin’s lips tightening around his tendrils and sucking in earnest. He threw his head back, roaring in pitiful bursts while pleasure pooled agonizingly slow in his groin; so perfectly, so efficiently.

“You wish,” he snarled through gritted teeth, and whimpered angrily when the suction on his tendrils lessened, just for a moment. Kevin knew better than to rebel longer than that, and Cecil sneered his pleasure at seeing him behave, brushing his wandering hands away. “Now _finish up_.”

Kevin’s unoccupied pair of lips twitched in agitation, the edges curling downwards into a scowl that pierced as deeply as a bitter gaze. The other two mouths sucked more eagerly, lapping greedily at the fat tendrils inside them, coaxing them farther down their shared throat. Cecil arched off the couch, canting his hips upwards, thrusting his tendrils deeper. His hand loosened in Kevin’s hair, claws scratching softly at his scalp as he groaned a quick “good boy”. The compliment didn’t stand long.

Despite his first two mouths gorging themselves on the thick fluids dripping from Cecil’s writhing tendrils, the third was fidgeting irritably, biting cracked lips into an even bloodier mess than usual. He hesitantly placed his hands against Cecil’s hips again, digging his fingers into charcoal skin and chasing swirls of violet freckles.

“But…,” he began, a slight pleading tone to his voice. He paused as Cecil growled, but soldiered on anyway, “if you won’t let me do more for _you_ … why not take me instead?”

Cecil barked out an ugly laugh, grip tightening in Kevin’s hair, not caring when his claws raked a little too hard against his skin and drew frantic whines from that one open mouth. He wished Kevin had eyes that he could force in his direction, to know the seriousness of his feelings for him, no matter how confused they might be in his own mind.

“Do you really think I would touch you like that?” he hissed, all but forcibly tearing that hideous face away from his aching tendrils. “You’re _filth_. You should be grateful I let you do any of this at all.”

“I _am_ ,” Kevin insisted, feeling the situation slip away from him. His mouths went a little slack, losing their grip on the squirming tendrils buried so deep within them, fluid dripping down his throat. This was the only time he could ever get a true conversation out of Cecil, whether or not he was aware of it. When he was so close to release, stubborn yet pliant under Kevin’s practiced tongues, that’s when his forked tongue became much more loose. “But it’s been so long now, and I can do _more_.”

“You’re so certain of yourself,” sneered Cecil, “but you’re _barely_ managing to do what little is happening now.”

Kevin growled softly, doubling his efforts, making Cecil incapable of producing any sounds that weren’t loud, sudden gasps and deep, husky moans. He rolled his hips up, pressed against Kevin’s face with the hand still clutching a fistful of his hair. His mouths were sucking so much inky fluid from the swollen tendrils now that it began to pool in his empty mouth, drip from its lips.

“I just mean,” he continued, secure in the knowledge that Cecil couldn’t talk back anymore, “that you’ve let me stay here so long now. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Cecil growled, almost imperceptibly, and for once Kevin seemed not to notice.

“Friendly, at least. You let me do _this_.” He twined his long tongues around Cecil’s tendrils, pulling them deeper down his throat. The sounds it wrenched from Cecil’s own monstrous mouth had the throbbing ache in Kevin’s groin growing worse than it ever had before, and he palmed at the bulge in his slacks hesitantly, not wanting to draw attention to it.

“You enjoy me,” he purred, sliding his free hand between Cecil’s legs and pressing a finger to his hole. “So why not let yourself enjoy more of me? I can make it worth your while.”

A sudden blur of a shadow passed, and the voice was choked from Kevin’s throat, words dying on his tongue. Something powerfully thick squeezed his neck so tightly, and he barely had a moment to try to shout before the same thing was stuffed into his open mouth and down his throat, insides wriggling so close to the constrictive outsides. He grasped it firmly, though there was no use. Cecil’s tentacles couldn’t be pried off once he had taken hold.

“Finish up,” Cecil said slowly, sternly, punctuating the command with another hard squeeze of Kevin’s neck. He could feel the other man’s throat vibrating, a soft rumbling from him trying to make noise, horribly muffled. That was fine, because Cecil already knew what sound Kevin would be making at being choked half to death. He was moaning.

It seemed like an unfortunate side-effect of his Desert Bluffs upbringing that no matter how Cecil tried to threaten him, Kevin would only mistake it as affection, but it suited his purposes well enough in the end. Kevin sucked harder, swallowing the tendrils to the root, face pressed firmly against Cecil’s groin, and still he seemed to hunger for more, enough to fill the rest of his throat and drown himself in wriggling flesh and ink. His tongues twined around the squirming things, squeezing them in turn, forcing slick fluid from them to puddle in Kevin’s stuffed throat and drip back out through his mouths. Rivulets of gray ran down cracked lips, staining tanned skin, and Cecil groaned at the sight. This was how Kevin should look: thoroughly used. Yet despite all his requests to do more, Kevin liked it, rutting like a dog against anything in reach; the couch, Cecil’s leg.

His lips tightened, teeth raked gentle trails along sensitive skin, except for the ones digging into the thicker appendage. So much pleasure mixed with so much stabbing pain, and Cecil gripped the couch cushions, lifting his hips off the couch and closer to Kevin’s searing hot mouths, fat nub of a tail thumping eagerly against the seats. He could feel tension building, coiling so wonderfully tight low in his gut, swelling his tendrils almost to bursting, forcing Kevin’s mouths open so wide. The vibrations from his stifled moans filled the sensitive flesh, twitching in agonizing pleasure, leaking steady streams of diluted ink until they just couldn’t hold it all anymore. Cecil roared, jerking his hips violently as ink gushed from the tendrils, flooding Kevin’s blocked throat, pouring from his mouths and over his chest and legs, soaking into and staining the couch. He was a grotesque sight; soaked in black liquid, rivers of it running down his face. Cecil lowered his hips gently, careful not to scrape sensitive tendrils against razor sharp teeth, removing the thicker tentacle from Kevin’s throat a moment later.

He coughed and sputtered, swallowing large amounts of ink, licking his cracked lips and smiling wistfully. Cecil scowled, his body rapidly shifting back to his human disguise, and rubbed a foot against the somewhat lessened bulge in Kevin’s stained slacks. He hissed through three sets of clenched teeth, shuddering and moaning.

“S-stop,” he gasped, the stimulation too much, as Cecil knew it would be. Drenched in slick fluids, bruises around his neck, a partially-strained voice. Kevin had enjoyed himself quite thoroughly again.

 


End file.
